Five Years, Three Days
by luvin-benadam
Summary: future fic.. It's been five years since Woody and Jordan have seen eachother and she has a secret that's going to change his life forever.
1. Darkness

There is something about darkness that bring out different things in different people. For some, it's a welcome. There's something soothing and comforting about pure, raw darkness, so black that you can't see a thing. For others, it's makes them scared as hell. Just the prospect of not being able to see makes them hyperventilate, sweat breaking out on their forehead, breath catching in their chest.

Jordan Cavanaugh was one of those people who take comfort in the dark. As she lay in her bed, nothing but dark surrounding her, it gave her time to think, time to contemplate what her life had become. She rolled over and looked at her alarm. 3:13 am in blinding red light stared back at her. She grumbled and rolled back onto her other side, listening intently for a voice from the room down the hall. Silence greeted her welcome ears.

It had been five years, five years and three days since she had last seen him. Five years that had changed her life forever.

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Garret pulled his car up to the crime scene, shutting off the engine and picking up his coffee mug before getting out. The snow feel lightly around him, catching in his salt and pepper hair and falling down the back of his buisness suit. A group of people were standing by the docks, all crowded around something he couldn't see. He approached quietly, creeping up and joining the crowd, peering over the top of their heads to see what they were looking at.

A naked woman lay on the wood, her body mangled and blue from the ocean. She had long brown hair and large brown eyes which were staring openly into the sky above.

"A little respect here guys," Garret yelled to the onlookers. They wheeled around in surprise, not knowing Garret had arrived.

"Sorry Dr Macy," some of them mumbled as they turned around and walked away. Only one person remained by the body. Garret approached him cautiously.

"Nigel. Good you're already here. Who's the officer in charge?"

Nigel looked sadly up from the body and stared at Garret hard, not anwering his question.

"Nigel?" Garret prompted again.

Nigel turned his head in the direction Garret should look. He followed his gaze to the left and stared, hoping, wishing, that it was not the person that he knew beyond anything it was. The friendly face of Woody Hoyt stared back at him, his crystalline blue eyes booring into Garrets.

"Dr Macy," he started. Five years had not changed a single thing about him. "Long time no see."

He extended his hand for Garret and they shook, Garret's usual bland expression staring back at him.

"How are you Hoyt?" Garret asked. Nigel walked up to them and shook Woody's hand as well.

"I'm good. Really good. How is ... everybody?" he replied, a hesitant expression crossing his face.

"Jordan's fine," Garret answered seeing right through his question and turning his back on Woody and bending down to examine the body. "What have we got here?" Garret asked.

Woody pulled his notepad out of his pocket and flipped to his notes. "Jane Doe, caught in a fishers fishing net early this morning. Called dispatch on his radio and we met him here. Waiting on you for cause of death and ID. Nothing visably wrong with her."

Garret stood back up and pulled his gloved off with a snap. "I'll take her back to the morgue now. Woody you wanna come or pick it up later?"

"I'll meet you guys there. Just have to finished off a couple things here," he replied. With his usual smile, though Nigel and Garret both noticed it was rather hesitant, he walked off.

Garret turned to Nigel, a worried expression on his face. "I'll take the body. You call ahead and warn Jordan."

Nigel nodded in understanding before whipping out his cellphone and hitting speed dial three.

"Cavanaugh," Jordan answered her phone.

"Jordan it's Nigel. We have a situation."

"What's wrong?" her concerned tone replied.

"He's back."

"What! No, no. This can't be happening. What about ..." she began to panick.

"Don't worry luv. It'll all work out. Is she there right now?"

Nigel heard Jordan sniffle back a worry. "Ya."

"Alright he's on his way right now. Just play it cool," Nigel warned.

Jordan took deep, steadying breaths before answering. "Alright."

"Ok. I'll see you in ten minutes."

Nigel hung up his phone and sighed, worry overcoming him. _'Woody can't fine out about ... don't worry mate he won't. You're just gonna have to do some quick thinking,_" he thought to himself. He got into his car and rushed, hell-bent, back to the morgue.

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Unfortunatly, both Woody, Nigel and Garret all arrived back at the same time, crowding together in the crypt and watching as Nigel took the girl's prints and scanned them. "This is going to take awhile. Why don't we go back to your office Dr M?" Nigel suggested.

Garret and Woody nodded and followed him down the hall, Nigel taking a couple detours to make sure they avoided Jordan. They finally walked into his office but Nigel stopped dead when he saw who was sitting on Garret's couch. Nigel and Garret exchanged a terrified look as Woody pushed past them, a huge smile on his face, and crouched beside the little girl.

She had long chestnut brown hair that fell in ringlettes at the ends and icy blue eyes. Woody noticed that she looked around four, five years old. "Hi sweetie who are you?" he asked in the same tone that all adults use with little kids.

"Emma," she replied cutely. "Who are you?"

Woody laughed at her forwardness. She reminded him instantly of ...

"Well Woodrow why don't we go see if those results are in yet," Nigel interupted. "Emma I have to borrow Detective Hoyt from you," he addressed the little girl.

Emma nodded her head, whisps of her dark hair falling into her eyes. Woody stood up and followed Garret and Nigel back to trace, both of which were exchanging sighs of relief.

"So who is she?" Woody prompted.

Garret and Nigel exchanged a glance. "My cousins daughter," Garret answered.

"Hhmmm ..." Woody replied. "She looks kind of like Jor..."

"Oh I think the results are in!" Nigel interupted again, walking over to the machine and sitting himself down, instantly rattling off the information to discourage Woody from bringing up the subject again.

"Addison LeDuke. Twenty seven years old, bartender down at Vilettos. Says here she has a brother in New Jersey, a sister in Queens, and another brother in Chicago. Not married and no kids. Lives in an apartment just a couple blocks from where she was found," Nigel said.

Woody nodded, scribbling down all the information to his notes as it came to him. "Great," he said when he finished. "I should get back to the precinct and relay all this to the boss. Thanks guys," he said with a smile as he turned and walked from the room. But at the frame he stopped, leaning against the door and staring back at them.

"Tell everyone I say hi," he said.

"I'll tell her," Garret replied.

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**Rightyo...here's the first chapter. I'm sure you guys have figured out the secret but if not ... hurray for me on my hinting skills! Review please!**


	2. Waiting For The Elevator

Jordan sat on the chair in her office, the little girl sitting on her lap, her dark head resting gently against Jordan's shoulder. Her sleeping frame stradled Jordan's waist, clinging sleepily onto her mother. Jordan smiled and dropped a kiss on top of her head, standing up and balancing the weight of her daughter and her bag, full to the brim with autopsy reports.

She walked to the elevator, carefully gripping onto Emma's thigh, trying not to drop her. She waited impatiently for the doors to open, her thin arms starting to give under the weight she was holding. Footsteps echoed from behind her but she didn't bother to turn, unconcerned about who was still at the morgue at eleven o'clock at night.

Woody walked slowly up to her, her heart hammering in his chest painfully. He could feel each pulse push blood painfully through his veins which seemed to have constricted at the sight of her. His breathing was heavy and staggered, finding it increasinly hard to fill his lungs with air. He approached with caution, aware of the fact that in her arms was the little girl he had met earlier that day.

"Jordan," he said as he closed the remaining steps seperating them.

Jordan nearly dropped Emma. "Woody!" she exclaimed, pushing her falling daughter back up.

"She's a cutie," he mentioned, pointing to the little girl in her arms.

Jordan looked uncomfortably to her daughter, she heart hammering with worry and anticipation.

"I know," she replied, putting on her head on her daughters and plastering a fake smile on her face.

Woody found it hard to tell where one set of hair ended and the other began. And then it clicked. Emma was Jordan's daughter. But why had Nigel been so keen on keeping that fact away from him? _'Maybe it's because you just left her ... and because it's also Garret's cousins daughter,"_ he thought to himself.

Woody decided to hold off on the lecture about sleeping with your bosses cousin for another time. She he settled for simple conversation instead. "So how have you been?"

Jordan hesitated. "Fine," she finally replied. "How about you?"

"Good," Woody replied maybe a little too quickly.

He noticed Jordan struggling to hold up her daughter and the bag of autopsy reports in her hand.

"Do you want a hand?" he asked, motioning to her full hands.

"Ummm..." she hesitated. "Sure," she replied, trying to disentangle the bag from her shoulder where Emma was sleeping. Woody laughed at her futile attempt to extract the bag.

"Here," Woody offered. "Why don't I just take her?" he motioned to the little girl.

An extremely worried look crossed her face at the idea but she decided to play it cool and nodded. Woody reached out his arms and picked Emma up, turning her around and resting what little weight she had on his chest, her head resting peacefully on his shoulder. Woody smiled at the comfort he felt holding her.

The elevator finally dinged, coming to their floor, doors peeling open. Woody and Jordan stepped in, Woody hitting the lobby button.

"Mommy?" Emma's meak and exhausted voice rang out. Jordan looked up into her daughters worried face, watching as she tried to figure out who was holding her.

"Hey sweetie," Jordan said, extending a hand and brushing stray pieces of chestnut brown hair from Emma's face. "You're ok."

"Mommy!" Emma cried out again, tears filling up her icy blue eyes. She reached her arms over Woody's shoulder, extending them towards her mother.

"Emma, Emma sweetie! Stay with Dad ... Uncle Woody."

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**Ok I know it's an abrupt ending up I have a concert to go to at my school and I'm out of time. Thanks for all your great reviews ... suggestions are always welcome!**

**Love Megan**


	3. Realization

Sorry about the length of the last one. I fully intended on making it way longer than that but I totally ran out of time. Again, so sorry. I'll try to make this chapter longer but I have a lot of homework that I have to get through. Anyways ... here's the much anticipated chapter ... and by the way, my m key doesn't work very well so sorry if it doesn't show up. And also, my spell check isn't working either so my grammer is truely awful!

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Woody looked at Jordan, his eyes burning with curiosity. Or fear. Jordan couldn't tell. She looked down to the floor, pretending as though nothing had happened.

"What?" Woody asked, his voice filled with confusion.

"Sorry. My mistake. She's really clingy sometimes ... even with her dad," Jordan lied through her tongue.

Woody still looked confuzed. Jordan just gave him a smile. Emma, who seemed content with the answer of 'Uncle Woody', had rested her head back on his shoulder and was sleeping soundly. Jordan reached up her hand and brushed more stray pieces from Emma's eyes which were closed with sleep.

"Does she see her dad often?" Woody asked, brushing aside Jordan's lame excuse and continuing their conversation.

Jordan stared admirably into her daughter's face, watching as her chest rose and fell with every little breath she took.

"No," she replied quietly.

"Must be tough for her. Does she ask a lot of questions?" he asked, concern laced into every syllable of his statement.

"More now than before. Father's day, Christmas, those kind of occasions. It's starting to get harder for her," Jordan replied, her eyes still glued to the sleeping figure in Woody's arms.

The elevator dinged again as it reached the lobby and Woody and Jordan stepped out.

"What did you tell her when she asked? Woody asked as they walked across the threshold and down to the parking garage.

"That her dad had to move away but he misses her very much," Jordan lied again.

Woody nodded his head sadly. "I bet it's hard for her."

"Ya I'm sure it is," Jordan said again. They continued to walk across the garage, the sound of their shoes echoing heavily off the walls.

"Where's your car parked?" Woody asked, hoisting Emma's slipping body back up.

Jordan stopped dead in her tracks, looking madly around before hitting her head in realisation.

"Jordan?" Woody asked, his voice heavy with worry.

She tipped her head back in frustration and ran her fingers through her hair, dragging her nails lightly across her scalp.

"Jordan!" Woody said again, trying to gain her attention.

She turned and looked at him, her dark eyes booring into his. "I don't have my car," she answered simply and smiling in her stupidity.

Woody laughed. "How did you get here?"

"Nigel picked me up earlier this morning and then I was on a case, Emma was home with the babysitter. Nige picked her up at lunch for me and brought her back here. I guess I'll just call a taxi," she said with a small smile.

"Don't be stupid. I have a rental car, courtsey of Boston PD, until I can find more permanant arranements. Why not run up the tab when it's not on me," he replied with a comforting smirk.

Jordan smiled back at him and hesitated before nodding her head in agreement. Woody smiled warmly and led her to his car, placing Emma down lightly in the back seat and unlocking Jordan's door. She climbed in and Woody followed, starting up the car and pulling out of his space, driving out of the parking garage and out onto the main road in silence.

"So where did you go when you left?" Jordan asked, breaking the intense silence.

"Jordan ... I have to talk to you about that," Woody began, his voice somewhat pleading.

"Woody it's fine. I understand why you just up and left and didn't return or call for five years," Jordan replied coldly.

Woody hung his head in shame, eyes still on the road ahead. He had to expect this. There wasn't no concequences for sleeping with the woman you love and then taking off in the middle of the night while she was asleep, then not calling, writing, or maintaining any type of contact for five years. Especially when that woman was Jordan Cavanaugh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled almost incoherently.

"You're sorry? You're sorry Woody?" Jordan yelled, her voice echoing off the tin roof of the car. "You didn't call me for five years!" she screamed.

Woody's eyes popped in shock from the force of her voice and a tiny voice cried out from behind her.

"Mummy?" Emma asked from the backseat.

Jordan turned around and looked at her daughter, her head resting against her seatbelt, icy blue eyes that matched her fathers pulled into the same expression her father in front of her had.

"Sorry sweetie did I wake you?" Jordan asked quietly.

"Mummy why were you yelling at Uncle Woody?" Emma asked, her head still cocked to the right.

"Sorry Em. Adult talk. Go back to sleep, we'll be home soon," Jordan cooed.

Emma nodded her head and closed her eyes, her breathing once again becoming slow and easy as she eased into a light sleep. Woody smiled despite himself. Jordan had definatly changed in the past five years. Never before had he seen the domesticated Jordan. The Jordan who tucked her daughter in at night and cooked her dinner every night. A sudden thought struck him. He turned to Jordan who had turned back to the front, staring out the front windshield.

"How old is she Jordan?" Woody asked, trying not to let his voice spill over in anticipation.

"She'll be five in six months," Jordan replied nonchallantly, thinking nothing of the question.

Woody's eyes popped open in shock again. Five. He had left five years ago. Emma would be five in six months. He had slept with Jordan before he took off. Emma would be five in six months. He couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. She had his eyes.

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Alright guys I know I said it would be longer but I'm totally out of time! Hope you guys like it. Next chapter will hopefully be Woody confronting Jordan about Emma!

**DONT FORGET TO REVIEW!**

**LOVE MEGAN!**


	4. Fault

**Sorry about the wait. Trying to cram for exams! Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

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Woody slammed heavily down on the breaks as they reached a red light. Jordan turned and looked at him after recovering from the whiplash, his face covered in the widest range of emotions Jordan had ever seen on him. His eyes burned with fear yet she could still see a trace of what looked like excitement.

"Woody?" She asked quietly.

He turned and looked at her, his eyes still shining with so many emotions you couldn't tell one from the other. "Are you ok?" he asked, noting the fact that she was rubbing her shoulder where the seatbelt dug into her.

"Ya I'm fine," she replied cooly, turning around in her seat to check on Emma who was still sound asleep.

Jordan opted to not ask why he had all the sudden slammed down on the brakes, or the look of pure terror on his face just seconds before.

"Do you still live on Pearl?" he asked, his eyes glued to the road ahead.

"No not anymore. Three blocks to the west, now. Moved there when Emma was born," she replied, her voice still uncharacteristically quiet.

Woody nodded in understanding and changed directions, trying to hide the fact that his breathing was coming harder and harder every passing second. They drove there in silence, neither saying a word to each other. When they pulled up outside Jordan's new building, Woody shut off the car and lent against the steering wheel.

"Do you need a hand up?" he asked. Jordan could tell that something was wrong.

"Ya, sure," Jordan replied, opening the door and climbing out, grabbing her bag which was sitting on the floor at her feet. Woody got out as well, opening up the back door and gently pulling Emma out, resting her exhausted body against his chest. He locked the car and followed Jordan's retreating back to the front door, into the elevator, and up to the sixth floor.

She stopped outside her apartment and unlocked it, opening the door for Woody and letting him pass.

"You just gonna put her to bed?" Woody asked, gripping firmly but gently onto her tiny body.

"Ya, she's pretty tired. I'll show you the way," Jordan replied, walking down the entrance hall, through the living room, and down another hall to a room halfway down. She eased open the door and Woody walked past her, taking in the pink walls and flower bedspread. He walked across the floor and placed her body down on the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping her inside, dropping a kiss on her forehead before he stood up and started to leave.

"Uncle Woody?" a tired voice called out as he made his way back to the hall.

Jordan and Woody both turned around at the sound of her voice. "Mommy can I talk to uncle Woody for a minute?" Emma asked.

"Sure sweetie," Jordan replied. "Woody do you want some coffee?"

"Sure," Woody answered before turning his attention back to Emma and kneeling down beside her bed. Jordan walked back down the hall and into the kitchen, wondering if it was a smart idea to let her five year old talk to the man who was her father, though neither of them knew.

"What's up Em?" Woody asked, running his fingers along her forehead to rid it of the pieces of hair that seemed rather attached to her eyes.

"Uncle Woody you have the same eyes as me. Mommy always told me that I got my eyes from Daddy," Emma replied, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes.

Woody could feel tears burning behind his own icy blue eyes that perfectly matched the little girl who he now believed to be his daughter. What Jordan had told Emma about her father made it all the more believable.

"Did she now?" Woody asked, biting back his tears and staring intently into Emma's face, his eyes tracing over every inch of her delicate features.

"Yup. And since I've never met my daddy, I have to ask. Are you my daddy?" she asked, her eyes pleading with him.

Woody bit back more tears and placed another kiss on her temple. "That's for your mom to tell you," Woody answered. "Go to sleep."

He stood up from his spot by her bed and walked towards the door, flipping off the light and closing the door halfway, allowing a little light from the hall to flood into her room. Emma was the opposite from her mother. To her, the dark was not inviting.

Woody walked back down the hall and into the kitchen, wiping away the single tear that had slid down his cheek. He slid down onto the couch in the living room that the kithen overlooked, resting his head in his hands and bracing his elbows on his knees. Jordan walked up to him and placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

"What did Emma want?" she asked, sitting herself down on the couch opposite him.

"Why didn't you tell me Jordan?" he asked, his voice cracking with pain and hurt.

"Tell you what?" Jordan asked, playing the 'I don't know what you're talking about' card, even though she knew exactly where the conversation was going.

"Tell me that Emma was my daughter!" Woody yelled, his voice taking himself back in surprise.

Jordan placed her coffee mug back on the giant oak coffee table, running her fingers through her long, chestnut hair.

"Why, Jordan! Why!" Woody asked, though it was a rather rhetorical question.

"Why do you think, Woody!" Jordan yelled back. "I finally find the courage to have a relationship with you, we sleep together, and then in the middle of the night while I'm asleep you just take off! You did exactly what I was afraid you would do! You just left me! The whole reason I wouldn't start a relationship with you to begin with was because I was afraid someone was going to get hurt! And that's exactly what happened!" she screamed.

Woody could see the pain of rejection clouding over her eyes, the pain of raising a baby on her own, all of the pain he had caused her.

"Jordan ..." he began.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. I didn't know if you were going to come back. I was afraid you would, I was afraid you wouldn't. I was going to run. But then Lily found out. She talked me through everything, explained that it was my choice, but it was also yours, considering it was your baby too. She told me that no matter what, she would always be there for me. But if I moved away I would be completely on my own. If I stayed I would have her, Garret, Nigel, and Bug; I'd have my morgue family. And so I stayed.

And now here you are. Our daughter is five. You've missed a huge part of her life and I feel terrible about it. She asks questions all the time about you, about whether you love her or not. She thinks that because you're not in her life that she doesn't matter to you. And I have no idea how to explain that to her!" she sobbed, her head dropping to her chest.

Even thought Woody was fighting his own demons at the moment, he still found the strength to fight off hers. He pulled himself off his chair and crawled over to her, pulling her into his embrace and holding tightly onto her.

"Jordan none of this is your fault. None of it. If I had just stuck around long enough to find out that you were pregnant none of this would have happened. We would have raised her together and she wouldn't be asking any of these questions. I swear to you, none of this is your fault!" Woody sobbed as well.

Emma, hearing the comotion, came quietly out of her room, still wearing her jeans and a tshirt, her hair slightly tousled from the pillow. She walked quietly over to her parents, stoppin beside Woody and putting her hand on his shoulder.

Woody looked up in surprise, staring into the eyes that mimiked his own.

"Emma!" he said.

"Did you ask mommy yet?" she asked quietly.

"Ask me what?" Jordan asked, wiping away her tears and taking her daughters cheek in her hand.

"Remember when you told me that I had Daddy's eyes?" Emma asked her mother.

"Ya," Jordan replied.

"Well Uncle Woody has the same eyes as me. Is he my daddy?" Emma asked again.

Jordan looked from Woody to Emma, coming to the realisation that lying was no longer going to do any good.

"Ya sweetie. Uncle Woody is your daddy."

Woody waiting no time in wrapping his daughter up in his arms, holding onto her tightly, not wanting to let her go. This was his daughter. _His _daughter. And he wasn't going to miss another second of her life.

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**READ:**

**Ok I hope that's lon enough. I probab;l should of held off with Woody finding out that Emma was his daughter but I couldn't resist the temptation. It was nagging at me. Fear not, it's not going to be some sappy happily ever after story from here on. **

**You still have to find out about why Woody left, and even though he's going to be in Emma's life, will Jordan allow him in hers? Also, you'll find out why Woody is back in Boston and boy oh boy will there be hell to pay when you do!**

**Don't forget to review!**

**Love Megan!**


	5. Doorbells and Diamond Rings

Woody sat on the couch resting against the backrest, Emma laying asleep on his chest. Jordan sat across from them, admiring the innitiative Woody had already started to take with their daughter. Jordan could tell that even though Emma hardly knew the man who was holding onto her so tightly, she understood that he was her father, and for that she loved him. Jordan raised her coffee mug to her lips, passing the liquid onto her tongue and allowing it to slide down her throat, the warmth settling in her stomach. Woody gave her a small smile before turning his eyes to Emma, watching his own fingers as they passed through the hair that mimiked Jordan's.

Her sleep filled sigh rang through the room as she changed into a more comfortable position. Jordan and Woody both smiled. The silence was somewhat comfortable but the tension sat inevitably like fog on the horizon.

"She's adorable Jordan. She really is," Woody said quietly, sitting up more so he could see Jordan.

"And she knows it. Little monster knows how to get exactly what she wants with just one look," Jordan replied with a smile.

Woody grinned back and continued to play with Emma's hair. "She must be your daughter," he said jokingly. "How stubborn is she?"

"She such a little me. Except for her eyes. That she gets from you. I can't look her in the eye without being reminded of you. I actually feel sorry for my dad for having to raise me," she laughed again, raising the cup uncomfortably to her lips and downing the remained of her drink.

"Why did you leave Woody?" she asked suddenly, placing her empty mug on the table and leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees.

"Jordan ..." Woody sat up even more, repositioning Emma in his lap. "We do need to talk about this. Can I please just go put our daughter to bed first?"

Jordan nodded silently, taking notice of the fact that he had called Emma _our_ daughter. He walked back in five minutes later, wishing for the warmth of his daughters body back on his chest, and sat down next to Jordan. She shuffled a little way's away, feeling an unwelcome urge to jump on him and start kissing him.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush and lie to you. I felt the sudden urge to run. And all the sudden I knew exactly what went through your mind every time you felt the need to take off. And it nearly killed me to have to leave you behind. But I needed some time ... to think. I dunno. All I knew was that I needed a change and so I left," he said quielty.

True, Jordan had been expecting a confession, but she now knew just how trivial and juvinial she sounded when she came back after taking off. And it made her all the more angry. Woody was the one person who understood her, the one person she had let close enough to get to know her. And now here he was, nearly ten years after meeting her, and using the same exuse she use to. The anger boiled up inside her and threatened to unleash itself as the fury everyone who knew Jordan Cavanaugh feared. But it didn't. Instead, hot tears gathered on the brim of her eyes and slowly spilled over, sliding gently down her smooth cheek and coming to a rest at her chin where Woody's hand was waiting, brushing them carefully away as they fell.

"I know it's stupid and ridiculous," he said as he wiped the last of her tears. "And I'm not going to make exuses. I'm not. But I want you to know that leaving you is the biggest mistake of my life," Woody said as he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms protectivly around her body.

A little sob escaped her lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching onto his shirt for support. Down the hall, the doorbell rang. Jordan pulled away and wiped the last of her tears on her sleeve.

"Are you expecting anyone?" he asked, still not moving his arms from around her waist, not wanting to let her go.

"No," Jordan replied quietly.

"I'll get it," Woody said as he reluctantly pulled away from her and walked down the hall to the front door. He swung it open and his jaw dropped open in shock. Standing before him was a pretty girl around Jordan's age. She had long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and was wearing a buisness suit. Her primrose red lips were pulled into a taught line and her expression was blank and unreadable, except for the trace of hurt that flicked momentarily across her eyes.

"Woody," she said sternly.

He dropped his eyes to the floor like a child being scorned by his mother before returning them to her face. Jordan walked down the hall and stood slightly behind Woody, staring out into the face of the woman at her door.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, her voice polite but with a touch of annoyance.

The woman just stood there for a second, her eyes darting between Woody and Jordan, trying to put two and two together.

"I'm here for Woody," she said finally, her expression still unreadable. She was just as good as Jordan at hiding her emotions.

"And you are ...?" Jordan asked, her eyes now darting between the woman and Woody.

The woman held up her hand and showed Jordan the diamond ring on her finger. "I'm his finace."


	6. Sweet Child O' Mine

Woody stood between Jordan and Nikki, his eyes darting between Jordan's hurt and confused face to Nikki's demanding and questioning one. Jordan suddenly turned on her heel and walked back down the hall, past the living room and in the direction of either her's or Emma's rooms. Woody didn't know where she would go to seek comfort.

"Jordan!" he yelled down the hall at her retreating back.

"Oh is that how it's going to be?" Nikki asked, tugging at the ring on her finger and throwing it at Woody.

"Nikki!" he yelled at his fiance who was speed walking back down the hall she came from in the diretion of the elevator. Woody stood in limbo between the two women, wondering what one he should explain himself to first. He watched as the elevator doors peeled open and Nikki stepped in without so much as a backward glance. He could almost feel the anger radiating off of her. He stood there for another minute, still debating on what to do.

Coming to the realization that Nikki was probably already in her car and halfway to her parents house by now, he closed the front door and walked slowly and quietly down the hall to Emma's room. Easing the door open, he noticed that Jordan had pulled a chair up to Emma's bed and was stroaking her dark hair, watching as her little chest rose and fell with each breath she took. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, leaving it open a crack for a sliver of light to edge into the room.

He knelt down beside Jordan and placed a warm hand on her knee, not looking at her but at their daughter who looked so much like her. Jordan didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said quietly, breaking the mounting tension.

"Doesn't matter," she whispered in reply.

Though she was putting on the facade she always did, Woody ould hear the hurt and pain in her voice that she had masked.

"Yes it does. I should have told you."

"Woody ... just leave. Please. I really need to be alone," she said, her eyes still not moving from Emma's sleeping face.

"What!" he asked in return.

"I can't do this right now. Please ... go," Woody could hear the desperation in her voice, the plea that lay so deep without solace. It was breaking his heart to hear her so hurt.

He stood up quietly, placing a kiss on Emma's forhead and walking to the door, turning and stopping at the frame.

"You may not want me in your life, Jordan. But I'm gonna be in Emma's, whether you like it or not. She's my daughter too and I've missed way too much of her life already." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, down the hall and out of the apartment and for all he knew, out of Jordan's life for good.

XXXXXXXXXX 

_She's got a smile that seems to me, remindes me of childhood memories. Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky. _

Woody sat in his car outside the hotel, Gun's N Roses blaring on the radio. It was as though everything was tormenting him, everything reminding him of either Emma or Jordan. This song, the one that tugged at his heartstrings, definatly reminded him of Emma.

_Now and then when I see her face she takes me away to that special place and if I'd stare to long, I'd probably break down and cry._

He didn't know what was stopping him from going into the hotel. It wasn't as though either Jordan or Nikki were there. No, he knew that right now he was the last person either of them wanted to see.

_Sweet child o' mine_

_Sweet love o' mine_

There was a strange comfort of sitting in his rental car alone, nothing but the rain pounding on the windows to keep him company. It was methodic and rythmecial, very dependable. Woody knew that as long as those clouds were looming over the greater Boston area, the rain would keep coming. And from the look of the dark grey clouds growing ever bigger by the minute, the rain would keep coming for awhile.

_She's got eyes of the bluest skies As if they thought of rain I hate to look into those eyes And see an ounce of pain_

The image of Emma swam through his head, her blue blue eyes standing out more than anything. He wished more than anything that she was with him right now, sitting in his lap. He could sing her songs and teach her all of the things he had always wanted to teach his kids.

_Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for thethunder And the rain To quietly pass me by_

Not only did Emma's hair remind him of his childhood, of the little memories he had with his own mother, but it reminded him of Jordan. Emma had those same little curls at the tips of her hair, the little ringlettes you could put your fingers inside and twist around and it still maintained it's shape.

_Sweet child o' mine_

_Sweet love o' mine_

He glaced at the clock on the dashboard, 2:37 am. He had left Jordan's at around 12. It had already been two and a half hours of sitting in his car with nothing but the rain and the radio for company.

_Where do we go Where do we go now _

His cellphone rang from somewhere at his feet. He pulled it out and flipped it open. "Hoyt," he answered promptly.

"Woody, it's Jordan." Her voice was panicked and tense and Woody could hear it cracking in stress and worry.

"Jordan what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up more in his seat.

"Emma's not with you is she?" Woody noticed that it was a rather rhetorical question but he answered anyways.

"No, of course not. Why?" he asked, his adrenaline rushing to his head. His heart pounded in his chest. This couldn't be happened. Not now.

"Woody ... Emma's gone."

_Where do we go Sweet child o' mine  
_


	7. Picture From No One

"What do you mean she's_ gone_ Jordan?" Woody asked, panic settling heavy on his chest.

"I mean she's gone Woody! She's not in her room, she's not in the apartment, she's not even in the building! I've looked everywhere for her! She's gone Woody, she's gone! I fell asleep on the couch and when I went to go check on her there was a note on the bed saying that they took her!" Jordan panicked, hot tears spilling fast and furiously over the brim of her eyes.

"Jordan ... listen to me. Call Boston PD and notify them about what's happened. Tell them to call CSU as well, I'll be there in five minutes. And Jordan, called Garret and tell him to come over as well." Woody tried to remain calm, tried to to keep his voice as even and emotionless as possible for Jordan's sake, he didn't even bother to ask who 'they' were. But he could feel his own emotions starting to get the better of him, trying to swallow him and drag him into a panic attack. But he fought it. Jordan needed him right now and he would be no use to her in an irate state.

"Jordan?" he prompted again. "Jordan! We're you listening to anything I just told you!"

The line was silent for a second except for the sound of her staggered and shallow breathing. "Ya, I'm listening. And Woody ...?"

"Ya Jo?" he asked quietly, starting up his car and driving insanely through the almost deserted streets.

"Get here soon," she responded, her voice quiet and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"You got it." He hung up the phone, closing it to end the call but immediatly opening it again and hitting speed dial three. Five years of being away and he still kept Boston PD on speed dial. It was his way of keeping his past alive, a way of reminding himself that he was always welcome to come back. Well, maybe not in Jordan's eyes, but a way of reminding himself that it was a part of his past, that there was a history in Boston and it had once been his home.

"Johnson," the chief answered on the third ring.

"Chief this is Hoyt. We have a situation," he said, passing through a yellow-turning-red light and flying past a line of waiting cars.

"What's wrong?" he asked the bright-eyed detective, sensing the urgency in the level-headed man's voice.

"It's my daughter sir. She's been kidnapped." Saying it out loud made it inevitable, took away any traces of denial he may of had and his heart dropped in dread.

Johnson didn't even bother to comment on the fact that one of his ex-detectives had a daughter he didn't know about but decided to treat it as any other case.

"We need a CSU unit over at 1657 Chambers St. Apartment 204 right away," Woody said again, pulling up outside Jordan's apartment building and jumping out of his car.

"Hoyt did you say Chambers St?" the chief questioned.

"Ya. Why?" Woody asked back.

"That's the Cavanaugh place. Emma's been taken?" Johnson asked, his voice panicked. "Emma's your daughter?" he asked again.

"We can discuss how you know Jordan and Emma later. Please just send a unit over. We need to find her."

"I'll have a unit over in five minutes. Tell Dr Cavanaugh to hang tight," Johnson said, placing his phone down on the cradle and sighing deeply.

Woody rushed up to her apartment, not bothering to knock on the door but barging right in, rushing into the living room, and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Jordan. She was sitting on the couch, not crying but barely moving. Garret and Lily were sitting beside her, Lily's hand resting gently on her thigh. In Jordan's hand was a blanket, white, with little pink hearts on it. Woody's assumed it was Emma's. He couldn't remember ever seeing her so broken.

He walked slowly over to her, unsure if he should even try to console her. Woody knew the pain she was feeling though hers was probably a hell of a lot worse. He had only known Emma as his daughter for not even a day. Jordan had spent every day for the past five years with her. He couldn't even begin to imagine the detachment she was feeling. Taking tenative steps towards the chair he had been sitting in earlier, he walked over to her and sat down, taking the hand that wasn't in Lilly's in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It'll be ok Jordan. I promise. I'm gonna find her if it's the last thing I do," he said, holding onto her hand with both of his and closing his eyes to fight off the tears. He felt a hand fall gently onto his own thigh and he slowly looked up into the comforting eyes of Lilly who was grinning lightly at him.

"We don't doubt you for a second," she said, tapping her fingers on his leg before removing her hand.

"Jordan I need to see the note," he said quietly, unsettled by her silence.

She still remained silent but handed him the note, tissue seperating her prints and DNA from the card. He took it gently from her, taking the tissue as well so he didn't get his prints on it. It was a simple white piece of paper, standard printer issue, impossible to trace, with individual letters cut out from magazines and newspapers. The message was eerie and menacing and Woody could tell from the blood drops on the bottom that they meant buisness. He earned to know whether or not it was Emma's blood, whether they had already hurt her just to get a message across to him or Jordan. The possibility that she was taken because of him, because of a case he had once worked on or some criminal he had pissed off made his heart drop to his stomach and the familiar feeling of excess saliva crept up the back of his throat.

_'We've taken Emma. We'll be in contact. Don't hold your breath,' _the note read. Woody had the sudden urge to crumple it up and throw it across the room but he knew that the fate of his and Jordan's daughter possibly rested on any information this note could give them.

"Is it Emma's blood?" Woody asked, settling for clenching his jaw and fists.

"Nigel's running a comparisson right now," Jordan said for the first time since he walked in.

Woody's head whipped around to the far corner of Jordan's apartment where he noticed for the first time Nigel was sitting, computer in his lap, fingers typing feriously against the keys. He smiled despite himself. The morgue really was a family. They always came though for each other whenever one of them was in trouble and Woody was at least grateful that Jordan had them while raising Emma. The computer in Nigel's lap dinged and everyone's eyes darted expectantly up to where he was sitting.

"We've got results," he said, fingers still flying across the keyboard.

"Well," Garret said in his usual impatient tone.

"It's a match. The blood on the bottom of the paper is Emma's," Nigel said sadly, his head dropped low on his chest. This situation brought back the same bad memories of Sarah when Maddie had gone missing. He only hoped that it had somewhat of the same ending; that, just as Maddie had been, Emma was returned home safe and sound, as happy and heathy as always.

The results seemed to have brought out a grim realization among the crowd, that and the fact that sirens could be heard blaring down towards their street seemed to have brought out the worst in everyone. Jordan shuffled closer to Woody, tears pooling on the brim of her eyes. But her stubborness and pride prevented her from letting them spill over. Woody stood up from his chair and placed himself gently down beside Jordan, wrapping his arm around her tired shoulders. She leaned he exhausted body against his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. His hand flew instinctivly up to her head as he brushed stray pieces of her dark hair that reminded him so much of Emma's out of her eyes.

Even then, in the comfort and safety of Woody's arms, did she allow her tears to take over. There was something inside her that prevented her from showing others her weaknesses, something that seemed to make her think that she needed to maintain this persona of indestructability. Woody wrapped his other arm around her tiny body, forming a tight, protective circle around her, allowing her to wrap her arms around him and cling onto the back of his shirt for support. She closed her eyes and took deep, steadingly breaths, breathing in the scent of his familiar, masculine colonge, the smell she missed so much over the past five years.

A sudden knock at the front door pulled her reluctantly out of he stuppor and she opened her eyes, head piviting in the direction of the door but not moving from her comfortable spot. Garret answered the door, a dozen police officers following after him, followed by the CSU unit.

"I think you should see this," one of the detectives said, handing an envelope to Jordan who still hadn't moved from Woody's embrace. "It was found in the mailroom back at the precinct. It's addressed to the two of you," he said quietly.

Jordan looked up at Woody who nodded in encouragement. She slit open the fold on the envelope, pulling out another piece of paper. She gasped in shock and awe as her gaze fell upon a picture. Above her, Woody felt his stomach convulse in sickness. The picture was of Emma, though it was not one that Jordan had ever taken. She was lying against the wall of a dark cement room, her body lying on the floor, head propped up by the wall, her blue eyes opened wide in fright, chestnut brown hair scattered haphazardly over her face, blood like a fountain pouring from a bullet wound in her chest.


	8. Just A Little Longer

"It's not real," Jordan proclaimed, brushing aside her tears but still clinging onto Woody. "It's not."

"Jordan," Woody said, his voice holding a silent warning. "Look at this picture. All that blood. She's gotta be dead," Woody said quietly, his voice raspy and uneven.

"No, Woody look," Jordan said, sitting up and holding the picture directly in his line of vision. "Her eyes are red. They don't do that when your dead. This picture was taken when she was alive."

"She's right Woody," Garret said, leaning over the back of the couch to examine the picture.

"But even still ..." Woody said, "All that blood. Even if she was alive when the picture was taken, doesn't mean she still is now," Woody said, his voice cracking with the realization that the daughter he had barely gotten to know was quite possibly dead. He hung his head low on his chest and waited for Jordan or Garret to say something ... anything.

"No but Woody," Jordan started again, her voice gaining more confidance by the second. "See here," she pointed to a spot on the picture where a line of blood was running down the side of Emma's plain white t-shirt, staining it the crimison red that was forever burned into their brains, "it's a blood clot. That means that the blood was withdrawn, by the looks of the size, about a month before it was placed on her body. It may be her blood Woody, but it's not recent," Jordan said, a small smile of hope creeping across her face.

"She's right again," Garret said.

Jordan smiled that same smile she always got when she was right and waited for Woody to say something. When he gave her an unconvinced smile, she continued on her rant.

"her hands?" Jordan asked, And plus, see what she's doing with pointing to her small hand which was resting beside her head, a trail of blood leading down to her fingers. "See how she she has two fingers curled down to her palm, two fingers held up, and her thumb resting on top of the two down fingers?"

Woody gave her a questioning look, wondering where she was going with this whole crazy finger thing. He wondered if it was another one of her unconventional, unethical, totally absurb theory's that had an uncanny way of coming true.

"The signal," Garret said, his jaw dropping in awe and amusment. "You guys have got one smart kid."

"Huh?" Woody asked, his head snapping back and forth between Jordan and Garret like a tennis match, trying to figure out the code they seemed to have been speaking in.

"It's a sign we have," Jordan said, deciding to finally clue Woody in. "Last year she got in some touble, I won't go into details, but when it happened we decided to make up a secret code for when she was in trouble. It's her way of telling me that she's fine," Jordan smiled.

"Besides," Garret said, gently taking the picture from Jordan's hand and placing his glasses on his nose to take a better look. "The blood is wrong. The wound, though very well done, is nothing but makeup. I think the blood is real but there's no spatter and the wound shows stippling."

"Stippling?" Woody asked, his head still bobbing back and forth between Jordan's sad but slightly hopeful face to Garret's deeply concentrated one.

"It means the shot was fired from a close range. But if Em really was shot, it definatly would have been a through and through. But there's not a drop of blood behind her. And even if she had been shot somewhere else then moved there, a wound like that would have been pouring blood. She wasn't shot. At least not for this picture," Garret said, his voice carrying a finality that held comfort for both Woody and Jordan.

They turned and looked at each other, smiles playing across their faces. Woody grabbed Jordan's hand and squeezed it, using his other hand to brush stray pieces of her dark hair from her eyes. While gazing somewhat longingly into the others eyes, Jordan's home phone rang. One of the officers who had just finished installing a tap nodded to Jordan who hesitantly picked it up and answered.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice far more confidant than she felt.

"Dr. Cavanaugh," a deep, heavily simulated voice answered back.

"Don't piss him off," Woody whispered from beside her, clamping earphones over his ears to listen, still holding tightly onto her hand.

"Where's my daughter? I know she's alive," she said, her voice firm and demanding.

"Don't worry, we'll get to that soon enough," he said, his voice holding a hint of a smile.

"I wanna talk to her," Jordan said, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything that would result in the harm of her daughter.

"Tut tut Dr. We can't have that. However we do need to meet. 12:15 am tonight in the park across from McKullen road. You can bring that charming detective of yours with you, but no one else," the menacing voice said.

"Let me talk to Emma. We know the picture's a hoax." Jordan said again. "I'm not doing anything you want until you let me talk to her."

"Fine," the voice huffed. There was a scuffling noise on the other end as the phone was passed from one hand to another.

"Mummy?" Emma's uncharacteristically quiet voice answered. Jordan's eyes immediatly filled with a fresh wave of tears at the fear in her daughters voice. Woody squeezed Jordan's hand a little tighter.

"Hey baby," Jordan answered, hiding the fear in her voice for Emma's sake. "Are you ok?"

"Ya but I'm scared," Emma said. Jordan could hear her tears spilling quietly over her eyes and silently down her smooth, pale cheeks.

"Sweetie Mommy needs you to hang on just a little longer. I'll be there really soon, I promise. I need you to be brave for me ok? Emma can you do that for me?" Jordan pleaded.

"Ok," Emma sniffled.

There was another scuffle as the phone changed hands again.

"Enough love," the gruff unnatural voice answered. In her head, Jordan could picture a man with evil in his dark eyes, bald, lots of tatoos, wearing a wifebeater and baggy jeans with a shotgun tucked into the back of his jeans and a 9mm semi-automatic in his hand, handeling her daughter. Gripping onto her arm far too tightly and roughing her up, yanking her about the room and throwing her against walls. The thought made her head spin and stomach convulse. She clenched her jaw to prevent herself from throwing the phone against the wall in frustration and anger.

"Again, 12:15 tonight, park across from McKullen road, by the swingset. You and detective Hoyt. No tricks or your daughter dies."

"Ok," Jordan answere nonchallantly.

Across the table, the officer with the tap motioned for her to keep him on the line.

"Oh and by the way Dr Cavanaugh," the man said again. "I hope your having fun with that tap. But let's save you from future hassel. There's no way in hell your going to fin us here," he said. The phone clicked on the other end and the line went dead. Jordan slowly lowered it from her ear an placed it down on the cradle, looking in scared anticipation to the officer with the tap. He shook his head sadly, removing the phones from his ears and shutting down the equpitment. Jordan sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her long hair, the urge to throw the phone stronger than ever.

Woody wrapped one of his strong arms around her shoudlers, allowing her to lean in and be wrapped up in the warmth of his body. "We'll find her Jo. We will. I promise."


	9. Photos

The hours passed angonizeingly slow for Jordan and Woody. They spent most of their time curled up on the couch or searching through Emma's things, a glass of coffee always in their hands. Jordan grabbed a photo album from the cabnit and walked over to the couch, sitting down and flipping open to the first page, Woody shuffling closer to her to get a better look.

"These were taken when I was pregnant and just after she was born," Jordan said, watching Woody's face as his eyes glided over each picture, a wide smile passing over his features. His eyes lingered a moment longer on one picture that caught his eye; it was taken when Jordan was about six months pregnant but she barely had a belly at all. She was sitting at her desk in her office, her head cocked to one side in the direction of the person who was taking the picture. She was positivly glowing. It made Woody's heart sink a little lower in the realization that he missed so many firsts in Emma's life. The first ultrasound, the first time she kicked.

"Was this taken by Nigel by any chance?" Woody asked, a goofy grin spread over his face.

"How can you tell?" Jordan asked, a smile that matched Woody's playing across her features.

"Just a guess," he replied. They flipped through photo album after photo album, each carefully dated for each stage of Emma's life. Woody didn't know she was so meticulous and organized.

"These are really well done, Jo," Woody commented, flipping through the pages of Emma's second birthday.

"Most of these pictures were taken by Nigel. When he found out I was pregnant he went out and bought a new camera and it was like every time I turned around he had the lens pointed in my face," she laughed in the memory.

"The man has not changed a bit," Woody said, still flipping through the pages.

The time passed slowly but by eleven that night, Woody felt he at least knew his daughter a little better than he did before. And he planned on getting to know her more the second she was back at home.

"Jordan ..." Woody prompted, wondering if now was a good time to explain himself.

She looked up into his sea blue eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"I wanna explain about Nikki," he said again, he head dropping low to his chest in shame.

"Woody ..." Jordan said. She really didn't want to talk about this right now. Not when her daughter was missing. Not now. Not ever for that matter. Woody had clearly moved on and the thought of him with another woman was almost as revulsing as the thought of her daughter in harm.

She was about to continue when a peircing ring from a phone interupted her. Jordan looked down to her lap where her cellphone lay quiet and still. Woody dug deep into his pocket and pulled his phone out, flipping it open and answering it.

"Hoyt," he answered.

"Woody," a quiet and sad voice answered.

"Nikki," Woody responded. "Hey."

"Hi ..." she said quietly and almost unaudiable. "I just wanted to appologize about earlier. When we met you told me you had a past in Boston and I knew that when we came here to meet my parents things were gonna get freaky. I should have stuck around long enough to let you explain," she appologised.

"Nikki, I'm sorry. I really am. And I want to explain this to you," Woody said, turning away from Jordan embarassed.

"Ok how about tonight? We can meet at the Holiday Inn on Fifth St in about an hour," Nikki said, her voice slightly more cheerful and happy.

"Nik ..." Woody said, his voice pleading and appathetic. "Now's not a good time."

"Woody ..." Jordan started. "It's time."

The line was silent except for the noise of Nikki's slightly heavier breathing. "You're still with her aren't you?" she asked, her voice annoyed and angered.

Woody sighed. "Ya."

"You're unbelievable," she said in a huff before slamming down the phone and hanging up on him.

"Nikki? Nikki? ... Nikki!" Woody yelled into the phone. Admiting defeat, he flipped his phone back shut and sat down with a sigh next to Jordan.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jordan asked, a slightly ammused yet disapointed look on her face.

"You don't wanna know," he said, contraditing what he earlier said about wanting to tell her everything about his relationship with Nikki. "Let's hit the road," he said, changing the subject and standing up from the couch, extending his hand downwards to help Jordan up. She gratefully took it and stood up, readjusting her jeans and running her fingers through her hair, her expression changing from ammused to scared.

"Hey, hey, hey," Woody said, grabbing her retreating arm and pulling her back towards him so they were standing face to face. "We're gonna find her. And she's gonna be fine. And never again is she going to be taken away from you. You listening?" he asked, his voice soothing and calm to her ever incresing nerves.

She simply nodded her head for fear of vomiting. The fear in her eyes was evident and it was breaking Woody's heart to see her so upset. He deeply sighed before scooping her up in his arms and holding her tightly to his warm chest, rubbing his hand in small circles on her ice cold back. The familiar feeling of warmth and comfort spread immediatly over her body. They slowly pulled away, their faces inches apart. Woody and Jordan both closed their eyes and leaned in, ready to give in to what they both had been fighting since their reunightment.

"Detective Hoyt," a voice rang out before their lips could meet. They pulled quickly apart and looked at the man who called Woody's name. "It's quarter to twelve. You need to go."

XXXXXXXXXX 

**ok so I know there was no point to this chapter but it's just a bridge of nothingness between the last chapter and the next which I'm planning on being action packed. I hope you guys enjoyed and don't forget to review!**

**love Megan**


	10. Welcome To The End

She sat in the cold, metal chair, hands bound tightly against the back. She struggled against it, fighting with all her might to free her small hands from the hard rope that was digging painfully into her wrists. A sudden noise made her stop and she whipped her head around to see where it came from, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. But no one was there. She continued to work at undoing the ropes but with no avail and the tears built up in her eyes at the relentless effort she was exerting without reward. However she knew she was tougher than that and held the tears in, taking deep, slow breaths to calm her ever-increasing nerves.

If she tried hard enough, she could almost hear her mothers voice telling her that everything was going to be fine and that she was coming to save her, that she had nothing to worry about. The sound of a car door slamming snapped her out of her reverie and she looked up to where a man was standing at the entrance to the concrete room, his shadow blocking out all details of his mangled and disfigured face.

"Awww" he said, his voice menacing and hard. "Don't look so afraid little Emma," he said again, a disgusting smile creeping across his face. "You'll be back with your mommy and daddy soon enough."

Emma just sat there, her face pulled into a hardened, tough expression. She refused to show this vile man just how afraid she really was.

"What?" he asked, stepping closer to her crouching down beside her chair, running his hand down her small arm. She could feel the goose bumps raise on her skin at his unwelcome touch. "No smart ass comment?"

Emma sat there for another second, contemplating what she should do. Before giving herself any more time to think, she swung her untied foot outwards and made contact with the gap between the man's legs. He fell onto his back in agony like a turtle flipped on it's back and Emma stood up, the chair which was still attached to her hands going up with her. In a moment of bravery beyond that of a five year olds, she turned around and jammed one of the chair's legs into the man's gut. He rolled over onto his side and clutched his stomach in pain.

"That's what you get mister," she said, shaking her hands free of the binding rope. In a last attempt of a weapon, she stuck out her tongue and ran off, through the warehouse in which she was being kept and out the garage door. Stunned at the easiness of her escape, she turned around and faced back to the warehouse, smiling in her success. Unknown to her though, her escape would not be that easy.

A sickening crunch echoed through the docks as a heavy metal shovel collided instantly with the back of Emma's skull. She fell to the wood of the dock under her, blood flowing freely from the wound on the back of her head, and passed out.

XXXXXXXXXX Jordan and Woody stood in the centre of the park as they were instructed, waiting for someone to come and tell them news on their daughter. The light of the moon and the street lamps lining the roads were their only source of light. Jordan wrapped her arms tighter around herself, rubbing her hands up and down to create friction to keep off the cold. 

"You look cold Jordan," Woody commented, turning towards her shivering body and looking her in the eyes. He knew that by maintaining that type of eye contact it would be almost impossible for her to lie to him. And he was right. So she merely nodded her head in agreement.

Without even offering, he took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. She drew it tighter around her body and turned to look at him.

"Thanks," she said quietly, the scent of cologne from his jacket stirring her brain with memories from their past.

"No problem," he said just as quietly.

"Where do you think they are?" she asked suddenly, looking around the park, anxiety written all over her face. "They're half an hour late."

"Just a precaution I suppose. Fashionably late," he said after a pause, trying a smile. But it never reached his eyes.

"Or they're not coming," she said, her pessimistic personality coming out. Throughout this whole ordeal she had tried to keep her head above the water, tried to see the silver lining; but there was no use denying who she was and the fact that she had a knack for seeing the down side of situations.

"They'll come. And even if they don't we're still going to get Emma back. I promise," he said, letting his hand slide slowly down her arm and come to a rest at her fingers. He gripped them in his hand and gave them a reassuring squeeze but she was so distracted she hardly seemed to notice.

"Excuse me," a voice behind them said. They both whipped around and turned to the man standing behind them. "Are you Dr Cavanaugh and Detective Hoyt?" he asked, looking to his hand where their names were written in black ink. Woody had the overwhelming urge to through the young man, who couldn't have been more than twenty, into the nearest tree and pound information out of him. But he and Jordan both had the distinct feeling that they had been bamboozled; that the young man standing before them had nothing whatsoever to do with Emma's kidnapping. So he simply settled for nodding.

"I'm supposed to give this to you," he said, pulling a manila envelope from his jacket pocket and handing it to them. Jordan pulled a tissue from her pocket and took the envelope, not wanting to ruin any trace evidence, prints, or clues that could tell them where Emma was. As Jordan began to carefully open the envelope, Woody interrogated the man.

"Where did you get this?" he asked sincerely, pointing to the envelope in Jordan's hand.

"I was walking in the park just half an hour ago and a man approached me and said he'd pay me a hundred bucks if I gave this to a Detective Hoyt and a Dr Cavanaugh who would be waiting for me in the middle of the park at 12:15. He told me to be a little late as well," he said, his voice cracking with stress and strain. "Did I just do something illegal?" he asked, his eyes popping wide with fear. "Cuz you know I just turned twenty last week and I don't have a criminal record or anything and I've never done anything bad in my life," he ranted.

"Stop!" Woody half-yelled. "The man we were supposed to meet here tonight is wanted in connection of the kidnapping of a five year old girl," he said quietly, his head dropping to his chest in shame in sorrow.

"Woody," Jordan said, not taking her eyes from the note in front of her. "Take a look at this."

Woody turned his attention to the note and carefully read and reread it. It said, '_So sorry I couldn't be there to see the look on your faces right now. But don't fret; we'll meet soon enough. Come to the docks where all the freight boats unload … find pier 13. There's a storage shed there. That's where you can find us. Be there at one o'clock this morning or your daughter dies.'_

Woody looked at Jordan who was staring expectantly into his face. "Let's go," he said, glancing at his watch. It read 12:45. "Sir if you could just go over to that officer there and tell him everything about the man you remember. We really need to go." He said to the guy who had delivered the envelope. Woody grabbed Jordan's arm and pulled her away from the park, the two of them running at top speed to Woody's car. They only had fifteen minutes to get to the pier and it was at least a ten-minute drive, pushing way past the speed limit. They would make it there in six if Woody had anything to say about it.

They arrived exactly six minutes and thirty seconds later, both Woody and Jordan expecting they had just set some kind of record. Pier 13 was about a two-minute walk from where they had parked but they both ran, hell-bent, to the garage door type entrance. A man was standing there, supposedly waiting for them.

"Ah, Dr Cavanaugh, Detective Hoyt. So glad you could join us."

XXXXXXXXXX 

Her head pounded painfully as she awoke, her splitting headache she assumed was what awoke her. She attempted to lift her head but it felt as though it weighed a ton. Instead she rested her tired, bleeding head back down on the cold cement, the iciness somewhat of a relief to the pain she was feeling. The rest of her body ached as well and pain echoed through her stomach as she attempted to roll over. Her hand flew instinctively to her aching ribs as she flipped, exasperating blood all over the cement in front of her. She was no doctor, but Emma knew enough about medicine to know that coughing up blood was not a good sign. This time, she didn't even bother to try and sit up. Everything around her was spinning uncontrollably and she had double vision. So she closed her eyes and attempted to go back to sleep.

It seemed that when she was sleeping she was unaware of the fact that her head was throbbing and blood was pouring slowly but steadily from her wound. Emma could picture herself lying asleep in her bed, her mom and dad sitting beside her, watching her, protecting her, making sure no harm would come to her. She could hear her mother's voice singing softly, lulling her into a calm and peaceful sleep.

As these thoughts floated around her head, her eyelids grew heavy and she gave into sleep, closing her eyes and feeling warmth wrap around her tired, aching body. As her breathing slowed into steady, even beats, the cruel world around her slipped and she was now trapped inside the marvellous world of her imagination.

XXXXXXXXXX 

"Where's our daughter?" Jordan asked, her voice dripping with unmistakable venom.

"Don't worry. She's just inside there," he said, pointing one of his short, fat fingers in the direction of the warehouse.

Jordan made a move in the direction he was pointing but his disgruntled voice stopped her. "Ah, ah, ah," he said. She turned back towards him, only to find the barrel of his gun pointing in her direction. "Another step that way and your brains get blown all over the dock," he said with a cruel smile.

She turned and walked back towards Woody whose eyes were silently pleading for her not to do anything stupid. "Now," the man said. "You can see your daughter as soon as you answer this question," he said, his features twisted into a grim sneer.

"And what would that be?" Woody asked, his hand slowly creeping behind him to his gun which was tucked into the back of his jeans.

"Oh I wouldn't reach for that gun if I were you Detective," he said, his face still smiling but his eyes burning with hatred. Woody sighed and let his hand drop back down to his side.

"Now tell me doctor," he said, turning his attention to Jordan. "What happens when someone very little gets hit, hard, in the back of the head with a metal shovel and the wound bleeds profusely?" he asked, a sarcastic, all-knowing look crossing his face.

Jordan could hear her pulse in her ears, pounding heavily with the realisation that what he just described was what had happened to Emma.

"Well?" he asked again. "I'm waiting for an answer."

Jordan cleared her throat and tried to look nonchalant. Woody, who had also clued into the fate of his daughter, could see that Jordan was trying to appear calm and relaxed but could see the fear burned into her eyes.

"Well, it depends on the severity of the wound. If the bleeding continues over an extended period of time, the victim may bleed out. If the wound isn't that deep …" she continued until taking a pause to steady her shaking voice, " the victim may experience light-headedness, dizziness, double vision and so on."

The man smirked again. "Very good. Now you may see your daughter." He walked over to the door and unlocked the padlock, opening the door and allowing Jordan and Woody to rush inside. On the ground in the very centre of the room was a dark heap, all features blocked out by shadows. Jordan and Woody ran over to it, Woody reaching it first, and flipped it over.

There, lying on her back, was Emma, her eyes closed, blood still pouring from the hole in her head. Jordan and Woody knelt beside her bleeding body, taking in the scratch marks, cuts and bruises that littered her porcelain skin. Behind them, echoes of the man's shoes reverberated off the walls as he walked over to them.

"Shame isn't it? She was such a pretty little girl. And for the two of you, welcome to the end."

XXXXXXXXXX 

**READ:**

**Well my people, there you have it, the much-anticipated chapter. It's taken me 2,247 words and 6 pages to type all that up and I know Emma's situation hasn't been concluded but that's kind of the point. It keeps you coming back for more. Now I'm not going to give you a preview of what's coming up but what I will do is give you some quotes of upcoming chapters. **

**These quotes probably won't be used for a while but here they are … oh ya and I'm not going to tell you who says them either! MUHHAHAHA!**

"I'm not here to tell you that I can't live without you, because I can. I just don't want to."

AND 

"I know the choice may not be easy. It's simple, but not easy."


	11. Little Girl

The fog sat heavy on her brain, clouding over the dazzling and scary world above her. Ever so lightly she could hear voices calling her name, begging her to open her eyes. But the sleep sat calmly over her, the warm blanket of haziness pressing in on her tiny body, trying to drag her back down to somewhere deep inside her mind, a place where anything was possible and her imagination was free to run wild. However, the desperation in the voices high above in what seemed like another world were startling and the anxiety their pleas seemed to hold made her want to open her eyes and take away the fear the voices possessed.

The voices suddenly seemed to grow louder as though she was yanked upwards, her body levitating upwards to satisfy the curiosity as to who it was and why they were so afraid. Something familiar echoed around her brain, stirring her out of her reverie and allowing her to think more clearly. It was the voice that had snapped her out of it, allowing her to come to terms with what was going on and process what the voices were saying and who they belonged to.

One belonged to a man, the other a woman, both terrified and stifling back sobs, neither willing to show weakness. They called her name, softly at first, then more desperate and pleading. She tried to open her eyes, tried to break through the surface of her mind and be welcomed back to reality. But slowly the voices faded and she felt herself sinking back down, down into the depths of her mind. She tried to fight, tried to swim back towards the noise, but it was impossible to fight the invisible force that was dragging her down. And that was when it clicked … her mother. The voice high above her was her mother's.

Fighting far more desperately now, the attempt was futile and inevitable and she finally gave in, what little strength she had left wavering, and allowed herself to sink far back into the murky waters of her mind.

XXXXXXXXXX 

He held her limp, ice cold body in his arms, whispering in her ear to wake up, to open her eyes, to just be ok. But nothing happened. Guilt slammed down onto him, hard, and he bit back the fresh wave of tears that had just appeared. Jordan knelt beside him, running her fingers through the little girl's hair. Her pulse was there, that had been the first thing she had checked, but it was erratic and uneven, not to mention deadly slow at times. The wound on the back of her head was still bleeding, despite the fact that Woody's jackets had been pressed tightly onto it.

She would never admit it out loud, but Jordan doubted that her daughter would survive the night. She needed a doctor and a hospital and if she could get neither of those things, there wasn't a chance in hell that she would live. Anger at just the thought of it boiled dangerously inside of her, threatening to spill over at whatever was in her reach. She could faintly make out the shadow of the man that had led them to Emma standing a couple meters away, his hands resting on his hips, no doubt a wide, sneering smile plastered on his face.

"Here," Woody said, gently lifting Emma's body off of his knees and placing her down on Jordan's. He stood up, withdrawing his gun from the waistband of his jeans. Emma needed a doctor and he would be damned if that pathetic excuse for a man was the death of her. He walked slowly over to him, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, cocking the gun as he went. The man didn't even move from his spot, waiting for Woody to come to him instead, standing his ground in an attempt to look tough.

Woody grabbed the collar of the man's shirt from behind and pulled, allowing the fabric to close up on his windpipe, giving him only enough air to talk but hardly enough to breathe. He pressed the barrel of the gun into his temple with his other hand.

"You get on that phone and you call an ambulance right now," he growled, placing his face about two centimetres from the man's. It struck Woody as odd that the man didn't withdraw his gun as he saw Woody approaching, and his cop instincts kicking in smelt something fishy.

The man just stared back, the smile still plastered on his face. "You don't scare me, Detective," he said, not even leaning back as Woody moved his face closer still.

"My daughter is over there dying and you don't give a shit!" he said, slamming his fist deep into the man's gut. He keeled over momentarily in pain but immediately pulled himself back up, clenching his jaw to stop from saying something back or perhaps just biting him. "Now call an ambulance NOW!"

The man just smiled again. "Make me," he said. Woody wanting more than anything, besides Emma's life, to just shove him into a wall and cause him as much pain as he was feeling at that moment. The fact that both his and Jordan's cell phones had been confiscated from them before they entered the warehouse weighed heavily on his chest.

"You know I have no objection to that," he said as again he rammed his fist deep into his stomach. "How can you just stand there and watch that little girl die?" Woody yelled at him, holding his chin to make sure he maintained eye contact with him and gesturing madly behind him. "She's turning five in a couple of months did you know? What kid deserves to die before they see their fifth birthday! Come to think of it, what person deserves to die before they're 90! Wait a second; I know … " Woody said. Again, he curled his fingers into a ball and slammed them into the man's stomach with all his might. " … People like you!" he concluded, letting go of the scruff of his neck and allowing him to nurse his wounds.

The man backed up a couple of steps before crumpling in pain to the floor. Woody just stood above him, his heart pounding in his ears, the guilt of what he had just done balancing evenly with the fear for Emma and the anger towards the bastard.

"Here," the man said from Woody's feet. Woody looked down to where his extended hand was holding out Jordan's cell phone. He looked momentarily in awe at him, wondering if this was some kind of trick. "I have a daughter too. She'll be three next week. Just take the goddamn phone," he said, thrusting it into Woody's hand.

He snapped out of his reverie and flipped open the phone, madly dialling 911. Pulling his cuffs out of his pocket, he attached one to the man's wrist and the other to a thin floor-to-ceiling pole on the other side of the warehouse. It took the ambulance exactly four minutes to get there and only six to load Emma onto a stretcher and into the back, Woody and Jordan hopping in after her, exchanging a look of anxiety and worry as the sped to the hospital.

XXXXXXXXXX 

There's nothing worse than waiting, especially when the fate of someone you love is the thing that you're waiting for. Jordan had never been that patient of a person. She was always out there searching for answers she was too impatient to wait to come to her. That's why sitting there in the ER waiting room was killing her. Not even the black coffee Woody had brought her was helping calm her nerves, in fact, it was almost making them worse because now that the caffine was in her system she would sleep even less, not that she was sleeping at all before.

She sat on the hard plastic chair, elbows resting on her knees, head braced up by her hands, Garret on one side of her, Woody on the other.

"Jordan she'll be ok," Garret said, placing his hand in a fatherly way on her back.

"How do you know?" Jordan asked, talking for the first time in the hour they had been there.

"Jordan … she's the little girl who blows bubbles in her pudding, the little girl who was determined to learn how to eat soup with a fork … and succeeded to a certain extent. She's the little girl who curls her hair around her pinkie finger when she's tired; the little girl who kicked her preschool teacher in the shin because she said that blue was better than pink. Jordan she's the kid with her mother's annoying stubbornness and her father's bubbly, happy personality. She's tough. That incident last year … she got through that just fine. She always has, she always will. You Cavanaugh's have an incredible ability to bounce back," Garret said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear and making sure her eyes never left his.

Jordan finally dropped her gaze to the floor and let out a little laugh. "Wow Garret," she said, leaning back in her chair and taking a deep breath. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much."

He gave her a quick, reassuring smile and a small kiss on the cheek before turning back to the Reader's Digest in his hands, leaving Jordan to talk to Woody. He placed his warm hand on he knee, allowing the warmth from his palm to radiate through her jeans and onto her own skin. She smiled at the comfort.

"She really blows bubbles in her pudding?" Woody asked, laughing at the thought.

"Oh ya. Started when she was two, the first time I gave it to her. She put the spoon to her mouth and I guess she though something was funny and so she laughed. There was chocolate pudding everywhere. But you should have seen her eyes when the stuff went flying; they just lit up as if it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen. And ever since then when I give her pudding she lets just a little air escape through her lips and damn can that stuff fly," Jordan laughed. "There's pictures. It was almost like a little show. I thought it was so cute the way her face just brightened every time she saw pudding so one day I had everyone over and I gave her a pudding and there was Nigel … snapping pictures every ten seconds," she laughed again.

Woody laughed along with her, images passing through his head. The sound of shoes echoing off the eerie hospital walls snapped their heads back up and they looked into the eyes of Emma's doctor. Woody and Jordan both stood up and watched as he wiped a single tear away from his dark eye.


	12. Daughters

Life. It's a strange concept when you take the time to stop and think about it. Technically, we're all born on a timeline; we're all a ticking bomb just waiting to go off, we're all born with restricted time, slowly inching toward the deadline for all we know had been pre-planned since the moment of our creation. The problem: we don't know when the deadline is. So what do we do with our life? How do we know what to do and when to do it? How and why do we make the decisions we do?

The answer: we don't. Nobody can really tell us for certain when we're going to die. That's why we half to make the best of the time we're given because nobody wants to be the person who's lying on their death bed and thinking, 'Damn I wish I had done more.'

As Jordan stood there beside Woody, the two of them almost frozen in time, staring intently into the brooding eyes of Dr Laverne, guilt squirmed around in her gut. The hard reality that Woody may never be able to get to know the daughter Jordan had kept from him for almost five years was eating her away. And as he raised his hand and wiped that tear away from his cheek, Jordan could feel her stomach convulsing, every single one of her worst fears doing a play-by-play through her head. Her knees buckled under her weight and she started to crumple but Woody, who had been watching her intently out of the corner of his eye, turned when he saw her start to fall and threw his arms out, grabbing her around her waist and hoisting her back up to her feet, allowing her to rest her exhausted body against his chest.

"Dr," Woody prompted, steadying Jordan in his arms making sure her balance was ok.

"You're Emma's parents?" he asked, removing his glasses from his kind face and wiping them on the hem of his scrubs. Woody and Jordan nodded in response, both to scared to open their mouths. "Sorry if I scared you, I just put drops in my eyes. Have a seat." He motioned to the chairs behind Woody and Jordan and they hesitantly sat, Garret, Nigel, Bug and Lily all leaning in for the news.

"Your daughter sustained serious damage from the blow to the back of her head …" he started.

"Ya we know that already! Just tell us if our daughter's going to be ok!" Jordan half-yelled, anxiety and fear spilling over her voice.

He gave her a small, understanding smile before continuing. "Emma's going to be fine," he said, cutting straight to the chase and flat out handing them the information they were dying to know.

Sighs of relief were exchanged throughout the group and Woody grabbed Jordan gently by the arm, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Can I see her?" Jordan asked, pulling hesitantly away from Woody and looking back into the doctor's face.

"Luckily we didn't have to do surgery but she needed 21 stitches and she's going to be recovering for awhile," he replied.

"That's not what I asked," Jordan said, her voice harsh and demanding. Woody smiled despite himself. She really hadn't changed since the last time he saw her.

"Ya, you can see her. But only two at a time and try not to wake her when she's sleeping," he said, standing up and motioning Woody and Jordan to follow. They got up and followed his retreating back down the hall to a room near the end. He slowly eased the door open and waved them in.

They took tentative steps into her room, their eyes wandering over Emma's sleeping and bruised face to the bouquet of flowers Lily had brought to the steady beep of the heart monitor she was hooked up to. Jordan could hear her pulse pounding heavily in her ears, picking up pace as she took slow steps towards her daughters bed, Woody's comforting, warm hand resting gently on her back.

Hey icy blue eyes were closed in sleep, small chest heaving up and down with each struggling breath she took. Jordan pulled a chair up to her bed and sat down, barely aware of Woody standing right behind her. She watched as his hand crept slowly over the quilted blanket of Emma's bed and found her small, cold hand, gripping lightly onto her thin fingers. Jordan noticed the little twitch their daughter's hand made at the touch. Both Jordan and Woody could tell that she was awake but hiding it.

"Emma, sweetie," Jordan whispered, leaning in towards her daughters face. "It's mommy. Come on baby I know you're awake. It's safe now," she said again, tears threatening to spill over the brim of her eyes. With his other hand, Woody reached down and rested it on Jordan's shoulder. She didn't tense or flinch as he expected she would.

Woody and Jordan could both see Emma's eyes darting around even though her eyelids remained firmly closed. She was scared; they could see that too.

"Em?" Jordan prodded. She wanted more than anything to see the little girl open her eyes and show Jordan's increasing maternal nerves that she really was ok.

"Emma?" It was Woody's voice this time, pleading his daughter to just open her eyes. Jordan noticed that at the sound of his voice, their daughters face relaxed, breathing slowing down and stopping to simply listen.

"Em?" he asked again. "It's …" He didn't quite know how to introduce himself. He had missed so much of her life already and he didn't know whether Jordan would allow him to be her father. He turned his eyes that mimicked Emma's to Jordan who nodded her head in encouragement. "It's Daddy."

Her eyes slowly opened, taking in the strange scene around her. Jordan raised her eyes to Woody, smiling in thanks, before turning her eyes back down to Emma.

"Hey babe," she said, raising one of her hands to her daughters hair and stroking back pieces of stray hair.

"Mommy?" her sleep filled voice asked. Both Jordan and Woody tried to put out of mind the fear they heard deep within her question.

"Ya Emma?" Jordan replied, moving her eyes to the sight of Woody's hand gripping tightly onto Emma's.

"Are you sure it's safe now?" she asked, her icy blue eyes darting back and forth between Woody and Jordan.

"Of course," Jordan said. "See Em? You're in the hospital now. Everything's fine."

Truthfully, everything was far from fine. But Jordan would be damned if she added to Emma's already fragile nerves.

"Daddy?" Emma asked. Woody looked down to her, startled by the name he had wanted to hear for so long but was very unused to.

"Ya Em?"

"You're not going to go away again? Are you?" she asked, tears filling her eyes with the possibility that the father she had just begun to know was going to leave her.

Woody wondered how to answer it. It wasn't a decision that he alone could make. There was Nikki to take into consideration and their home back in LA.

"I'm going to do my best to see you every second I get the chance," was the only answer Woody could come up with.

Jordan looked up into his face, disappointment and warning etched into her features. She would also be damned if she let Woody hurt Emma the way he had hurt her.

As if on cue, the ringing of a cell phone shot through the stiff hospital air. The lack of vibration coming from Jordan's pocket told her it was not hers. Woody plucked his out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"Hoyt," he answered automatically and out of habit. "Nikki," he said, a lot more quietly than when he first answered. With a slightly embarrassed look to Jordan, he backed out of the room and took the call to the hall.

"I'm sorry," her quiet voice answered back. "I really am. I told you that I was going to be understanding about everything that came up when we came here and I wasn't. I totally blew up at you and I am so sorry," she pleaded.

"Nik …" he said. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You found me with another woman … not that we were doing anything … but it was another woman all the same. I would have flipped too," he said, understanding seeping through his voice. "And I did tell you that I had a past in Boston and that things were going to come up but it turns out that even more things have come up than I expected. Things that even I didn't know about," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well tell me about them," she said, curiosity about her future husbands past coming into play.

"Not over the phone. This is something I have to tell you in person," he said, pacing back and forth down the hall.

"Ok well are you free right now?" she asked.

"Um …" he hesitated. "Sure. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about Paulo's down on Third?" she offered.

"Sounds good," Woody replied. "Meet you there in fifteen minutes?"

"Alright. And Woody …" she hesitated. She couldn't tell if now was a good time to say it again or not. "I love you."

Woody was taken aback, even though it wasn't the first time that she had said it to him. "You too," he said back before hanging up.

Leaving Emma and Jordan while his daughter was in the hospital was the last thing he wanted to do. If he could, he would have sat there all night to watch over her, to make sure that no harm came to her again. If he could, he would do it for the rest of her life. Woody walked back into the room, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket as he walked to Emma's bed.

"Who was it?" Emma asked, sitting up.

"A friend of mine," he said, twiddling his thumbs. The detail was vague but Jordan knew that it was Nikki.

"Do you have to go?" Emma asked. Her voice was expecting, as if she already knew the answer.

It broke Woody's heart to have to tell her the answer. "Ya sweetie. But just for a little while. I promise that I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded her head, disappointment clear on her delicate features. Woody dropped a kiss onto her forehead before backing out of the room, then stopping at the doorframe.

"I promise," he said as he turned reluctantly on his heel and walked away.

XXXXXXXXXX 

Nikki and Woody sat at the table, looking over their food to each other. She was wearing a flattering pair of dark jeans that hugged her slim hips and a low v-neck red sweater that brought out the natural flush on her pale cheeks. Around her neck hung the twenty-four carrot gold necklace with the princess cut diamond at the end that her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday. She was clearly dressed to impress.

"So …" she said, not waiting any longer for him to bring up the conversation that he clearly didn't want to have.

He looked her over, taking in her stunning features. He thought about the past year of their relationship, how she was simple and kind. In a way she reminded him of Lily; always thinking about everyone but herself. She was calm and liked to stick to the rules; predictable. In other words, she was the anti-Jordan. It was the reason he had become attracted to her.

"So …" he mimicked.

"We got together so that we could have this conversation," she said, her voice bordering on impatient. "You need to tell me."

He sighed deeply, knowing there was no way he was going to get out of this. "I've told you about Jordan," he said, suddenly very interested in his plate of spaghetti in front of him.

"The girl you played the game of cat and mouse with for years? Ya, you've told me about her," Nikki said, reaching out her hand and tilting his chin to look at her.

"Well … it seems that there was more to our relationship when I left than I knew about," he said, clearly stalling.

"How could there be aspects of your relationship that you didn't know about?" she asked, confusion wrapping around her head.

Woody looked into her pale blue eyes, wishing he was back at the hospital with Emma and Jordan. "She was pregnant when I left and I didn't know."

Nikki was silent.

"I have a daughter."

XXXXXXXXXX 

**Sorry about the wait guys. I'm so bad. Anyways … there you have it. Lot's more drama to come as long as you review!**


	13. Wish I Hadn't

She had his eyes. It was all she could think about. There, laying in the cold, sterile hospital bed, was her soon to be husbands daughter who shared his eyes; the eyes Nikki always wished that their children would have. Her heart rate picked up as she thought about the thing she had been trying to forget for months. Woody could never find out. If he did, everything would be off. The wedding, their plans, everything she had worked so hard to keep. He just couldn't find out. It would ruin everything.

She stood there at the doorway to Emma's hospital room, Woody at her side, staring at his daughter who was wide awake and chatting happily to her mother who was the spitting image of her.

Woody cleared his throat, drawing attention to the two of them standing at the door.

"Woody," Jordan said, caught by surprise. She hadn't been expecting him back today, least of all with his fiancé.

"Hey Jordan," Woody said, guiding Nikki into the room and leaving her at the foot of the bed as he went over to Emma and kissed her forehead. "Hey baby," he said, pulling single red rose out from behind his back and handing it to Emma.

"For me?" she asked, taking it gently from his hands and smelling it.

"For you," Woody replied, dragging two chairs from the wall over to her bed and sitting down, motioning Nikki to take the other. "I told you I would come back."

Emma smiled a smile that matched Jordan's. Both were glad that he hadn't let them down. Jordan mouthed the words 'thank you' in his direction.

"So I'm guessing that this is Nikki?" Jordan asked, holding out her hand and pointing politely to Nikki.

Nikki reached her hand across Emma's bed and shook Jordan's hand. "Nice to meet you Jordan," she said, jealousy washing over her as she stared into Jordan's pretty face.

"You too," she said, dropping Nikki's hand.

"Sorry guys …" Woody said. "Didn't think about it. Introducing you that is. Jordan I hope you don't mind. Nikki just wanted to meet Em."

"No of course not," Jordan lied. Woody smiled and Nikki looked on jealously, wondering why Woody didn't look at her the way he looked at Jordan.

Jordan broke the contact first and looked at Emma who was still smelling her rose.

"Em sweetie this is Nikki," Jordan told her daughter.

Emma looked up from her flower, staring into Nikki's face with intense dislike. She couldn't explain it but she didn't like her already.

"She's a friend of Daddy's," Jordan continued.

"Fiancé actually," Nikki corrected.

Both Woody and Jordan glared at her.

"She's four," Jordan said coldly. "She's doesn't know what a fiancé is."

Woody had to turn his head away from the two women to keep from bursting out laughing. Jordan was still Jordan. Four years and motherhood had not changed all that much about her.

Nikki just grinned sourly, trying to pretend as though she didn't hear the venom in Jordan's voice.

"Woody we should get going. There are still a ton more things to do and you haven't even seen my parents yet," Nikki said, putting on her puppy-dog face as though she was five.

"Nik I want to … I really do," Woody said, lying. "It's just that …" He wondered how to put it without hurting her. "Emma is my daughter and she's in the hospital. I've already missed four years of her life. I can't afford to miss any more."

Nikki was silent, trying to fight down the boiling anger threatening to spill over. "Woody she's fine!" Nikki whispered threateningly. She didn't want to do this. Not here, not now; not in front of Jordan. "What does this mean for us? I mean, we have a home in LA. We're getting married next year. Where does this leave _us_?" She put emphasis on the word 'us' as if pointing out that their relationship was more important than Woody taking care of his daughter.

"Nikki we'll talk about this later. Right now, Emma needs me," Woody said. Jordan was proud that he was standing up for Emma.

"_I _need you!" Nikki said, standing in the doorway and motioning with her hands.

And there she was; the anti-Jordan. Not even if she was lying, dying, on a cold basement floor would Jordan ever admit that she needed someone. Woody fought another smile.

"I think you should go Nikki," Woody said, his voice a deadly whisper.

Nikki stood there, stunned. Woody had never spoken to her like that. "Excuse me?"

Jordan, Woody and Nikki all looked to the bed where Emma laid, having let out a little whimper.

"You're upsetting Emma," Woody said, turning back to Nikki. "I'll call you later just …" He didn't know how to finish his sentence. "You need to go."

Nikki gave them both her best death glare, though Jordan couldn't see because she had her back to the door as she fixed Emma's blanket. With a turn on her black stiletto heel, Nikki turned and left, storming down the hospital hall and leaving. Maybe coming to Boston was a bad idea after all.

Woody sat with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. That was not how he envisioned this going.

"I'm sorry," Jordan said, somewhat truthfully.

"No you're not," Woody said, jokingly. Jordan smiled. "Admit it; you enjoyed that didn't you?"

Jordan just smiled. "Maybe just a little bit."

Woody laughed. "I think I got in over my head in this relationship," Woody confided. Jordan listened intently. "I wasn't even the one who proposed. She asked me," Woody said, a look of regret flashing across his eyes.

"But you said yes," Jordan interrupted.

Woody sighed deeply. "I know. But now …"

Jordan waited for him to finish. She wondered if he was going to say what she though he was going to say.

"But now what …" Jordan prompted.

Woody looked up into her dark eyes, wondering if he could confided this in her. He had known Jordan for so long; he trusted her with his life. Surely he could tell her how he really felt. Heaven forbid not about their relationship and his feelings for her but … ah what the hell.

"But now I wish I hadn't."


	14. I Need You

Ok I'm starting to wrap it up guys. Sad, but true. I've got a lot of other story ideas that I wanna run with and I can't do that without finishing some of the unfinished stories I still have. So I'm thinking another two or three chapters and it'll all be over.

**Enjoy!**

It was just the two of them, sitting in the sterile hospital room, staring into each other's eyes, both at a loss for words. Woody had never been alone with his daughter before. But the fact that Jordan trusted him enough to leave him alone with Emma while she went home to shower and change made him feel a little bit better. He watched as Emma watched him, her blue eyes closing in sleep. Woody tentatively reached out his hand and took Emma's in his. She didn't flinch or pull away, something Jordan without a doubt would have done. He could tell she was fighting sleep.

"Go to sleep Emma," Woody said, using the hand that wasn't in hers to brush pieces of her dark hair out of her eyes.

"Can you sing to me like Mommy does?" Emma asked, her eyes growing heavier with every second.

Woody hesitated. "Sure," he replied. "What do you want me to sing? Hush Little Baby, Mockingbird, Itsy Bitsy Spider …?" Woody listed off.

"No, I Need You," Emma stated, finally giving into sleep and allowing her eyes to close but not drifting off into sleep.

Woody looked at her like she was crazy but she couldn't see because her eyes were closed. "The Kinks?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Emma nodded her head and Woody resisted the urge to laugh. Only Jordan would sing their daughter The Kinks and he couldn't help but swell a little with pride. He was glad that she remembered how much he loved the Kinks and even though he himself wasn't there with Emma, Jordan was at least exposing her to some of the things that Woody would have.

"Well?" Emma asked impatiently, waiting for him to start singing.

Woody laughed. She was defiantly Jordan's daughter. He took a deep breath and recited the song he knew by heart. "I need you,  
I need you more than birds need the sky. I need you, it's true little girl,   
That you can lift the tears from my eyes."

With her eyes still closed, a smile crossed Emma's pretty little face and an identical one broke out on Woody's. He continued to sing.

"But if you ever tell me good-bye, I'll break down and you'll hear me cry. I need you, More than anybody else has needed anyone before.

I need you, There's no one else to stand in your place. I need you, you know little girl, That you can keep the smile on my face."

Her breathing became slower and easier and Woody fought another urge to laugh.

"But if you ever tell me good-bye, I'll break down and you'll hear me cry. I need you, More than anybody else has needed anyone before.

I need you, There's no one else to stand in your place. I need you, you know little girl, That you can keep the smile on my face."

Jordan walked into the room, taking in the sight that she wanted to laugh at. There was Emma, laying with her eyes closed on her hospital bed, listening to Woody sing her I Need You by the Kinks; the song that Jordan had sung her almost every night since the day she was born.

"But if you ever tell me good-bye, I'll break down and you'll hear me cry. I need you, More than anybody else has needed anyone before. More than anybody else has needed anyone before. I need you, I need you, I need you." Woody finished the song just as Emma fell into a light sleep and he sighed a sigh of relief, glad that he was able to comfort his daughter in a way that he thought he may not have been able to do.

"Bravo," Jordan said as she walked into the room.

Woody wheeled around in his chair, frightened by the voice of someone he didn't know was there. "Jordan," he said, trying to keep the amused tone out of his voice. "How long have you been there?"

Jordan smiled from ear to ear. "Long enough to hear you sing the Kinks," she said with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Woody turned his head away with a smile, slightly embarrassed. "What mother sings her daughter the Kinks?" he asked, a slight kidding accusation in his voice.

"A mother who's raising her daughter alone. A mother who wants her daughter to know something about her father," Jordan said, slightly more serious.

Woody dipped his head in shame. "Jordan I'm so sorry," he pleaded. But she shook her head and sat down in the chair opposite him.

"It's in the past Woody. And I'm just as much to blame as you are. I know that if I told you about Emma you would have been back here faster than light. But it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that you're in her life now. And that's all she needs," Jordan said, her eyes glued to Emma's sleeping figure.

Woody turned his eyes to their daughter as well, smiling at the sight of her tiny body curled under the blankets and a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips even though she was sleeping.

"I'm back for good Jordan," he said, reaching his hand across Emma's bed and taking Jordan's in his. "And I'm not going anywhere."


	15. Pent Up Passion

He knew he had to do it, he just couldn't bring himself to. This is what he wanted, what he wanted more than anything. And besides, it wasn't as though Nikki had been completely faithful to him. When the PI he had hired contacted him only hours before and told him what he had subconsciously known all along, Woody realised that he knew what he needed to do.

Nikki was a cheater, and that was that. His suspicions had been right. The fact that the PI told him that he had pictures of his fiancé kissing another man told him all he needed to know. And the fact that she had been acting suspiciously and all those 'tennis lessons' she had been going to back in LA just confirmed what he always believed. Add to the fact that Jordan and Emma needed him and Woody's choice couldn't have gotten any clearer.

So here he was, standing outside her hotel room door, wondering why he couldn't just reach out the handle and turn it and end that part of his life. He supposed it was because he was trying to gather how he felt. The fact that he felt absolutely nothing at all towards her, that he was just indifferent, made him feel better about what he was about to do.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out his hand and swiped the key card, the green light telling him to go in, and twisted the handle open. The hotel room was dark and quiet as he walked down the hall and flipped on the light. That's when he saw her, sitting in the far corner of the room, her blonde hair down for a change, flowing past her shoulders, reading glasses perched on petite nose, romance novel in her hands.

Woody stifled back a laugh. Jordan would never, _ever, _be caught reading a romance novel.

"Woody," Nikki said, her voice holding a tone of surprise. "I didn't think I'd see you again tonight." Her voice was quiet, subtle. Woody almost felt sorry for her before remembering why he was here.

"Save it Nik," he said, his voice cold. "I know what you did."

She extracted herself gracefully from the chair, tightening her silk robe tighter around her slim frame. "What are you talking about Woody?" she asked, the innocence in her voice almost believable.

"I know about Michael Lancaster," Woody said, his voice loathing.

Accidentally, the book in Nikki's hand fell to the floor in surprise. "How did you … how long have you … Woody …" her voice was pleading as she took a tentative step towards him. But he stepped back as she stepped forward.

"Don't Nicole. Don't," he said. He never used her full name. Never. Everyone always just called her Nikki. The only time he ever called her Nicole was when he was really, _really, _pissed off.

She backed off a little, taking a step back.

"I can't do this. I'm out. Out of this relationship, out of your life. I know it sounds a little harsh, but I can't do this. I can't be in a relationship with no trust, no faith. I can't and I won't," Woody said.

The tears started to pool in her eyes, threatening to spill over. But she was a lawyer. She was tough. She wouldn't let Woody see her cry.

Woody took the steps forward this time, walking slowly towards her and placing a soft kiss on her smooth, pale cheek. "Have a nice life," he said as he started to walk away.

But her voice stopped him. "Woody?" It was a plea, scared almost.

"Ya?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned around.

Nikki was looking at him, a worried expression on her face, one arm looped tight around her waist. In her outstretched hand was something gold and shinny. He took a step back towards her, reaching out his own hand and taking the ring from her.

"Save it for someone you really, really love," she said. Her voice wasn't accusing, it was kind and warm and Woody smiled genuinely at her.

"Thanks. And for the record, I forgive you," he said, starting to walk away. But he stopped himself and turned around. "I know you'll find someone who's good enough for you and they'll love you more than anything in the world," Woody said kindly.

Nikki smiled. "Like you do with Jordan."

Woody didn't say anything but grinned lightly, dipping his head in embarrassment. "By Nik," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

"By Woods," she replied as he turned the doorknob and walked out without so much as a backward glance.

XXXXXXXXXXX 

He walked to Jordan's apartment door and knocked. With Emma being released from the hospital earlier that day, Woody knew that they would be back at home, probably with a bunch of people from the morgue over as well. Sure enough, as Jordan opened the door with a bottle of wine clutched in her hand, the noise from further inside the apartment greeted his ears. He smiled genuinely.

"Hey Woody," she said, swinging open the door and gesturing for him to step in.

He did just that and followed her down the hall to the living room where everyone was sitting, glasses of wine in their hands, and smiling at Emma who seemed to be the centre of attention.

"Daddy!" she said as she caught sight of Woody walking into the living room after Jordan. Emma ran towards him, arms outstretched wildly in front of her.

Woody caught her in his outstretched arms with a "Hey babe," and hugged her tight to his chest. He carried her into the living room and sat down on the only vacant chair left, Emma poised gently in his lap. He gratefully accepted the glass of wine Jordan tipsily handed him and downed half of it into his mouth, causing everyone to laugh as a little dribble fell down his chin.

Emma laughed and wiped it away with the sleeve of her plain black long-sleeved shirt and Woody ducked his head down and blew a raspberry on her stomach. Her giggles grew louder and everyone watched in appreciation at the amount of love Woody had for the daughter he had only just begun to know.

Jordan smile but put her glass down and turned to her daughter. "Emma baby it's time for bed," Jordan said, grinning at her daughter who was still laughing from her father's tickles.

"Aw do I havvveee to?" she whined.

"Ya Jordan," Woody piped in, mimicking Emma. "Does she havveee to?"

Everyone laughed again. "Ya sorry sweetie," Jordan replied. "Mommy's taking the day off work tomorrow and there's lots that we have to do. But we can't do it if you're tired," Jordan said.

Emma sighed. "Fine," she gave in. "But can Daddy come tuck me in too?" she asked.

"Course," Jordan replied, taking another swig from her glass and putting it back down. Emma extracted herself from Woody's entangled arms and hopped down to the floor. "Are you gonna give everyone kisses?"

Emma nodded and walked over to the first person beside Woody, Lily, and walked into her open arms, hugging her and receiving a kiss on the cheek. Next was Nigel, then Bug and lastly Garret who hugged her longer and tighter than anyone else.

With her mother in one hand and her father in the other, Emma led the way into her bedroom and pulled her pyjamas on, brushed her teeth, and was sung her favourite song. With sleep finally coming to her, Emma closed her eyes and allowed her imagination to take over.

Sighing, Woody and Jordan stood up, Jordan straightening her jeans and Woody running his fingers through his hair.

"You've done a great job Jor," Woody said, turning away from Emma.

"Thanks," she replied.

Silence weighted between them but it wasn't uncomfortable, not tense or awkward. It was comfortable. With his breath catching in his chest, Woody took a step towards him and Jordan neither flinched nor pulled away as he placed his hand on her cheek. She simply closed her eyes as though enjoying the touch and leaned towards his hand.

It was then that Jordan realised just how close they were standing. But instead of pulling away she simply let it be and allowed Woody to close what little remaining gap there was between them.

He moved in slowly, bringing his lips and hers and pressing them together with four years of pent up passion and sexual tension. She slid her hands over his neck and pulled his face closer towards hers as he pulled just a millimetre away. They pressed their lips closer together, mouths closing around the others.

"Woody," Jordan gasped, pulling ever-so-slightly away.

He looked at her, knowing it was only a matter of time before she did something like this. "Ya?" Woody whispered.

"I want this so much. I need you to know that it's just …" He wondered where she was going with this.

"Not in our daughter's room," she laughed. Woody laughed with her, pulling hesitantly away. "But later once everyone's left. I promise," she whispered in his ear.

He watched as she turned hesitantly away from him and left their daughters room, walking back into the living room. Woody walked over to Emma's bed and placed a kiss on her forehead before following Jordan back to the rest of the guests. In only a matter of hours, he and Jordan would be doing the one thing that had brought their daughter into creation.


End file.
